


My Roots are Wide and Deep

by firewalkwme



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Vegetarianism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewalkwme/pseuds/firewalkwme
Summary: Hannibal’s in prison and Will’s a newly-converted vegetarian. He tries to learn how to cook real food while keeping his sanity intact.





	My Roots are Wide and Deep

**Author's Note:**

> writing hannibal fic in 2018? my brand

As a kid, Will would eat anything.

He remembers sitting in the dirt in preschool and seeing a worm squirm its way across the mud. The gears of his brain started grinding together as he picked it up with two fingers and lowered it into his tiny mouth. He spit it out almost immediately, not realizing that worms don’t taste like chicken. 

Growing up in small-town poverty in Louisiana meant eating a lot of things that most people wouldn’t dare to touch. Oxtail, raccoons, and the occasional rabbit found their way onto Will’s plate pretty often. Originally a picky eater, he learned to either eat what was given to him or not eat at all. 

When he left Louisiana, eating often took a backseat to more important things. He remembers waking up in Student Health drenched in sweat after passing out on the lawn due to malnourishment. The nurse looked him over with a judgmental eye and reminded him about the local food bank. He smiled and thanked her, then went back to his dorm and pulled open a package of ramen with his teeth, eating the noodles raw. 

Then Hannibal taught him how to eat.

Foods that he couldn’t even dream of pronouncing. Foods that he couldn’t recognize even if he tried. Foods that didn’t taste anything like ramen or macaroni and cheese. Foods that tasted good.

And he started to like it.

Looking back, that must have been another way that Dr. Lecter sowed dependency into him like a butcher reaping a savage crop. Will, always gracious, never rejected him. Hannibal fed him to show that he cared, and Will got on all fours and lapped it up.

He shudders as he takes a package of firm tofu out of a grocery bag. 

—

Alana sighs into the receiver of her cell phone. “You know how to use a grill, right? It’s not all that different. Just Google it if you need any more help.” She may not be FaceTiming him, but she can tell that he’s carding a hand through his mussy hair.

“I - I don’t - I don’t know how to do any of this. And it’s not like I can go to McDonald’s. They put their fries in meat juice - did you know that?”

She chuckles to herself at ‘meat juice’. “Do you have a Pinterest?”

“A what?”

“A Pinterest. It’s a website for stay-at-home moms to post recipes. I’m sure you can find something on there that even you can’t mess up.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he mumbles. Alana imagines Will scrolling through Pinterest recipes and tries to contain her laughter. “I’ll check it out. In the meantime… I’m gonna try and figure out how to turn this into a burger or something. Bye.” With a click, he’s gone.

—

Through the glories of the world wide web, Will finds a recipe for roasted cauliflower and decides to give a try. He wipes his glasses down and takes a long, hard look at his screen before turning back to the head of cauliflower lying on his chopping block.

Will cuts out the leaves and imagines Hannibal in his kitchen, carving into a set of human lungs with godlike precision.

But this isn’t a human; it’s not even an animal. It’s just a floret of cauliflower, and he splits the pieces with his trembling hands with the caution of an artist at work. It crumbles in his hands into bite-size pieces that he tosses with sauce.

He looks underneath his fingers and sees a product of his own creation. And even though it’s just a floret of fucking cauliflower, it’s something he did and he did it right and no one is hurt. That’s enough to make him smile.

—

“What are you eating?”

Will looks up to see Jack standing over him, leering at his Tupperware container. “Orzo and some vegetables. Want some?”

“Ah… no thanks. Since when do you cook?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just fun.” Will starts to poke around at his food with his plastic fork. It’s his lunch hour between classes and he’s not excited about having it interrupted. “I’m not really a meat-eater anymore.”

“That’s…” Jack turns to look out the window. It’s a sunny day, by some miracle. “that’s fair. Enjoy your lunch hour.” And with that, he strides out of the room, leaving Will and his orzo alone.


End file.
